


We'll Never Be Lonely in the Dark

by QuickedWeen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Apparition, Baker Harry, Bottom Harry, Detective Louis, Dream Sex, Kidnapping, M/M, Medium Harry, Missing Persons, Nurse Harry Styles, Porn With Plot, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Bond, Psychic Vision Sex, Rimming, Smut, Sort Of, Strip Tease, Student Harry, almost, because why not, here are the tags for the case Louis is working, psychic louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-12-21 13:17:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11945034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickedWeen/pseuds/QuickedWeen
Summary: Detective Louis Tomlinson keeps getting blocked when he tries to use his psychic gift to locate a missing child. One late night he manages to get through but instead of finding who he's looking for he lands in the bedroom of a mysterious man.Harry Styles, nursing student, baker, and all around exhausted medium, thinks he's having the best sex dream he's ever had when his fantasy man shows up in his subconscious. But is that really what's going on?





	We'll Never Be Lonely in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you to the beautiful mods of this smut filled month. I was a diligent follower of last year's Cocktoberfest, so I'm excited to join in the fun this year! 
> 
> My word was apparition. This work is based off of an idea from a Harlequin romance by Kelley St. John.
> 
> Many many thanks to my amazing friend and beta [Amanda](http://casuallyhl.tumblr.com)! She's the best <3

Harry rubbed his eyes as he stared down at the squiggly lines that covered the pages of his nursing textbook. He really needed to take a break. He also needed to do well on his exam tomorrow, but as he was currently learning, that probably wouldn’t happen without a proper night’s rest.

He had been burning the candle at both ends a lot lately, and it was not going to serve him well in the long run. Between his early mornings at the bakery, classes during the day, studying at night, and almost weekly medium assignments from his grandmother, he didn’t ever have much free time to himself.

As he packed his belongings up from the library, and made his way to the bus stop, he felt the telltale buzz of his mobile in his pocket. Given the hour, well on to midnight, and the fact that most of his friends worked regular schedules, it could only mean one thing. A ghost.

Harry’s family had been mediums for generations, each one helping ghosts fulfill their unfinished business and pass on to the other side. Harry, his sister Gemma, and their mother, Anne, received weekly assignments at their farmstead in Holmes Chapel from his grandmother who was beyond the veil but able to communicate with them. His family home was about an hour away from where he lived and worked in Manchester, but thankfully, they lived in the age of technology, and his mother could send him the assignments to his mobile. Most of his assignments were in and around the Manchester area, anyway. His grandmother had started assigning him those geographically convenient ghosts when she found out he would be moving.

As Harry unlocked his phone, he heard the rumble of the bus coming around the corner. He waited to look at the letter until he was seated, purposefully distancing himself from the handful of other passengers riding at this hour.

Skimming the lines of loopy, slanted handwriting, Harry thanked his lucky stars that it was a simple case. A grandmother had passed away before seeing her youngest granddaughter's dance recital in a few weeks. Perfect. They would wait until the recital, he would bring the grandmother, she could move on, and he would be able to enjoy the three weeks before the recital relatively ghost-free.

He managed to pick himself up out of the seat to get off at his stop, before trudging the few blocks to his flat, exhaustion weighing heavily on his bones. He wasn’t scheduled at the bakery in the morning, and his exam wasn’t until noon , so he would have plenty of time to both sleep and get ready.

Harry unlocked the door to his building, and felt a twinge of annoyance at the commotion of a child wailing behind the door of 2A while he checked his post box. The actual resident of that flat, James? John? - Harry couldn’t ever remember his name because he was never there - traveled for long stretches of time for his job, so he let the flat out on a month by month basis. Harry’s only issue stemmed from having so many strangers coming and going through the building all the time.

Eventually, he made it up to his own flat, dropped his bag near the front door, and threw his wallet and keys on the table in his front hallway. He just barely stripped his clothes off down to his pants before falling face first onto his covers and succumbing to sleep.

***

Detective Louis Tomlinson hated London. He absolutely hated it. There were too many people with too many stories, and it was always damp or cold and crowded. So many people.

The file folder in front of him was sparse, with barely any information on the pages, and only one picture. An old school photo of the missing little girl was his only lead to go on. But wasn’t that how it always was? Louis knew Scotland Yard was sceptical of what he could do, but they always gave him the toughest cases and he did his best to deliver.

Louis was a psychic. He had no idea where the gift came from, no one else in his family had it, but Scotland Yard had found out about it when he was in university for Criminology and recruited him quickly. At the time there was a director who believed that Louis could help. Unfortunately, in the semi-political world of the Metropolitan Police, positions weren’t held for long and while Louis had stayed on, his mentor had left, and so with him went the majority of the faith in Louis’ abilities.

Most of the time Louis worked alone, usually on missing persons cases, but occasionally when he needed backup, his friend from his uni Criminology program and fellow detective, Liam, was pulled off of his own cases to help with Louis’. Liam also served as his contact when Louis went out into the field because sometimes proximity helped him get a read on the victim or missing person.

This case, for example. There was reason to believe the little girl had been kidnapped and had ended up in the greater Manchester area. Louis unclipped her picture again and brought it up closer so he could study it. The way his gift worked, if there was a strong enough connection, he could see flashes of visions from the missing person’s perspective, and help try and identify their location. As with anything so ephemeral, there were always ways in which it could go wrong. His success depended on so many variables, it was difficult to not get discouraged sometimes.

Louis had very little luck connecting with this particular little girl, there was some kind of block he couldn’t quite push through, but he would give it one more shot before he gave in and went up to Manchester. It was incredibly late at night, almost midnight, and she was probably sleeping, but sometimes sleep allowed a person’s mind to be more open.

Standing up from his desk in the empty bullpen, he grabbed the file and went to the small room the higher-ups let him use on the outside of the maze of cubicles. It was quiet, dark, and had an ancient loveseat in it from the previous resident. Why they didn’t just let Louis take it over as his office, he would never know. All of his fellow agents treated it like it belonged to Louis, always asking for permission to use it when he wasn’t in there. Bureaucracy.

Louis settled himself into the seat, looking at the photo of the little girl once more.

“Come on, love. I want to help you,” he pleaded. Letting his eyes slip shut, Louis concentrated on her name, Caroline Dempsey, and brought her likeness from the photo to his mind’s eye. The world around him faded, the colors began to change, smells took on a different tang, and just as soon as it all began, he found himself in a flat.

Right away, Louis could tell something was different. He usually saw the world through the eyes of whomever he was trying to connect with, and so far, he seemed to be seeing everything at his own height. Louis looked down at his body, and he was definitely wearing the clothes he had worn to the office that morning. This had never happened to him before. He thought back; sometimes medications or substances messed with his gift, but he hadn’t taken anything that day.

This flat must be connected to Caroline in some way. He searched around trying to locate something that might indicate a little girl of seven lived there, but he could find nothing. No toys, dolls, shoes or anything. This almost looked like a bachelor’s flat. Louis shrugged his shoulders. Well, the consensus was that she had been kidnapped, maybe this was where they were stashing her.

Louis made his way down the hallway towards a few closed doorways. The first one he opened was the bathroom. Nothing there.

The last door swung open under his hand, and it took everything he had in him not to break the door handle off. Because there, lying in the middle of a large, white bed, clad only in a pair of black briefs, was the most beautiful man Louis had ever seen in his life.

The man was asleep, starfished across the bed, clearly not used to sharing his space. His long limbs were tan against the soft comforter that puffed up around him. Black ink stood out against his skin in various places, including a butterfly right in the middle of his abdomen.

Curly brown hair flowed out over his pillow in a halo, and it looked so shiny and soft, Louis wanted to run his fingers through the silky strands.

Just then, the stranger on the bed began to blink his eyes. Louis didn’t worry, people were never able to see him when he was visiting during one of his visions, so he was content to watch him stretch out his limbs.

Almost immediately the stranger’s gaze landed directly on Louis, jade green eyes alight with confusion.

Louis saw the man’s mouth move and no sound came out, but Louis could clearly see him mouth the words; “Well, hello there.”

Was he… was he talking to Louis?

***

Harry was in the middle of a blissfully dreamless sleep when a ghost began to pull at the edges of his subconscious. It wasn’t the first time a ghost had contacted him in his sleep, impatient to get on with their life, or death, rather, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Finally, he gave in, blinking his eyes open, expecting to be met with the lovely old nan that he would have to placate so he could go back to bed.

That wasn’t what he found. Standing in his doorway was the most handsome man Harry could ever imagine, and he definitely did not have the silvery aura of a ghost. He wasn’t fully solid either, though. Ooh, that must be it. It had been awhile since he had a decent sex dream. Even longer since he had a decent lay, so what was the harm in enjoying it?

This man was certainly straight out of one of Harry’s fantasies, that was for sure. His fringe was artfully messy so Harry could run his fingers through it, and the stubble on his jaw looked to be a few days old, perfect for scratching up Harry’s thighs. His eyes were a piercing blue that shot straight through Harry, and he had a commanding presence that was getting Harry a bit heated. He could feel himself start to stiffen up in his pants, but why wasn’t the man coming closer?

Harry crooked a finger at his mystery man. He wanted to rip that suit right off of him. This was going to be fun.

***

Louis knew this was wrong. He didn’t know how or why, but he knew it was wrong. He also had no idea how to stop what was happening. What was happening?

He had been trying to connect with Caroline, who Louis could now admit had never been in this flat before in her life, and he had somehow ended up here. In this bedroom. With the most beautiful man in the world coaxing him to bed, and based on the look on his face, it definitely was not to sleep.

After Louis still hadn’t moved out of the doorway, the man on the bed gave him a soft, sexy smile and pushed himself to the edge of the mattress. Gingerly, he extended his endless legs and stood up, showing himself off for Louis, playing with the edges of the waistband on his pants.

Oh God, he probably thought he was dreaming. But Louis knew better; this had happened to him a few times before with other psychics in his field. They had somehow gotten linked psychically, but every other time this had happened they had merely acknowledged each other, nodded, and went on their merry way.

His stranger was making no effort to say anything, or break their link. He had no idea that Louis wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. There was absolutely no way Louis could take advantage of him like this, as much as his cock was really on board with the idea.

Louis had never been able to speak to people in his visions before, but he gave it a shot; “I’m sorry, love. I can’t do this. You’re not dreaming, I’m real.”

Louis waited for the shoe to drop and for the man to begin screaming, or throw things at him, or call for help. At the very least Louis expected the man to say he was a psychic also, and maybe this meeting had been on purpose, so they should have a little fun while they were at it.

Louis didn’t really think he could get that lucky.

Instead of any of that, all the man did was turn around, taking away Louis’ view of his mouthwatering bulge, before looking back over his shoulder at Louis seductively. He thumbed the edges of his pants at his hips and Louis felt his mouth run dry. Slowly, teasingly, the man began to pull the pants down, revealing the creamy skin of his pert little arse. Gorgeous. Louis didn’t even notice when the pants fell the rest of the way down and hit the floor.

The man kneeled onto the bed, back still to Louis, and centered himself over the white coverlet. He let his legs splay a little bit further. The man never broke eye contact as he leaned forward and rested his weight on his hands in front of him. Presenting himself.

Any reservations Louis had at that point were gone. This man wanted him, and fuck if Louis didn’t want him just as much.

Quickly, Louis pulled his blazer off and reached up to undo his buttons. The man could see him which had never happened before when he used his visions to search for someone, only when he encountered another psychic. Did this man have some kind of psychic ability as well? Would the man be able to feel him? Would Louis be able to feel the soft pale skin he had been admiring? Would he be able to run his hands through the man’s hair.

Louis continued to undress as he made his way to the bed. When he was clad in just his own pair of pants, he very carefully reached a hand towards the man’s back. Louis’ hand was shaking and he couldn’t get himself under control as one of his fingers reached out to trace along the dimples of the man’s back. When the pad of his finger met warm skin, Louis practically crumpled with relief and let his hand splay over the tender expanse between the man's back and his arse.

Louis pushed on the man’s hips, trying to convey the message that he wanted the man to flip over. An adorable little wrinkle popped up between the man’s brows. Clearly he wanted to stay on his hands and knees, and Louis vowed to let him go back. In a moment. He just wanted everything to be perfectly clear.

Bringing their faces closer together, he held the man’s jaw gently. “Tell me no. Please. If you don’t want everything, you have to tell me no. Now.”

The man smiled at him beatifically again, but instead of answering, he lifted his fingers to Louis’ own jaw, brushing a thumb across his stubble. Without pulling away, the man began to walk his fingers down Louis’ bare chest, trailing all the way down, pinky brushing across one of Louis’ hardened nipples on the way, until he reached the waistband of Louis’ pants.

The man gripped the elastic and gave a harsh tug forwards, trying to get Louis to join him on the bed. Louis chuckled and followed the movement, crawling his way onto the plush mattress, letting his mystery man lead him. Large hands gripped Louis’ hips, turning him around until Louis was seated with his back to the headboard.

The man eased the tight band over Louis’ cock reverently, exposing his hard length to the air. He tapped Louis' upper thigh so Louis could lift his hips up and the man could drag his pants the rest of the way down his legs. When Louis was fully naked, the man leaned his head down and pursed his pillowy, pink lips to place the softest little kiss onto Louis’ tip. That was all it took to have Louis melting back into the bedding like a sixteen year old getting his first blow job.

The man laved his tongue along the head of Louis’ cock, licking the slit timidly before lowering his head and taking Louis as far down his throat as he could.

“Holy fucking shit--” Louis ground out, surprised by the instantaneous, perfect heat surrounding him. Louis automatically reached for the tangle of brunette curls he had been admiring, digging his hands into them, tugging slightly. He couldn’t hear the man moan, but Louis felt the vibrations on his cock as they travelled through him. So, the man liked a little hair pulling, good to know, Louis thought with his last thread of consciousness before he gave himself over to the sensations.

It was the best blow job Louis had ever received, so he lasted all of two more minutes before he gave the man’s hair two tugs in quick succession, hoping he would understand the message. He did, but he still lifted his mouth off of Louis achingly slowly, taking his sweet time. Louis thought he was going to come right then, but he managed to get a hand around the base of his cock, slick with spit, to stave off the inevitable.

The man immediately crawled up onto Louis’ lap to straddle his thighs, bringing their cocks together, the friction almost more than Louis could bear. As the man leaned forward, he grabbed Louis by the back of the neck, bringing their lips together.

They hadn’t even kissed yet, Louis realised. He lost himself in the taste of the man’s mouth before he licked along the seam of his lips to deepen the kiss. Again, Louis could feel the vibrations from the noises the man was surely making, but couldn’t hear them. Louis longed to hear them more than anything, but he would take what he could get.

Grinding his pelvis against Louis’, the man created an extremely sensual rhythm that was quickly bringing Louis back to the brink. Determined to make this as pleasurable as possible for his mysterious beauty, Louis gently nudged his body away as if to change their positions. The man resisted, continuing to press his groin against Louis’.

Louis nudged his shoulders again, a little more forcefully this time, and the man followed his lead, but the furrow between his brows appeared again. Clearly this was not in line with his plan for the evening. Well, he had been directing them so far, but Louis could definitely give as good as he got.

Once Louis had the man laid out underneath him, he balanced himself on his hands in order to look his fill. God, the man was so incredibly lush. Louis was still no closer to understanding how or why this was happening, but it was all he could do to thank anyone and everyone for being given the opportunity to be close to this man, in whatever form, for however brief a time.

Bringing a hand up to grip Louis’ elbow, the man pressed his palm against Louis’ arm before trailing his own hand down his body, past his own cock in a clear indication of where he wanted Louis.

“Please,” the man mouthed when he was sure he had Louis’ attention again. Louis swallowed heavily and could only nod in response. Of course. Anything he wanted. He was at this man’s mercy from now until the end of time.

Louis brought their lips together again, scraping the man's lower lip with his teeth, tugging gently, before lifting off and leaving a trail of brief kisses along his jawline. When he reached the man’s ear he gave a tug to his earlobe, and underneath him the man keened, his back arching and his chest bumping against Louis’, nipples hard in the crisp autumn air.

Louis continued to kiss his way down to where the man was so impatient for him to be, stopping to pay attention to his adorable nipples. He didn’t even know nipples could be adorable, but on this man, they were. He stopped once more at what looked like two smaller ones slightly lower on his chest. Everything about his body was beautiful. Including, and most especially, the two laurels inked into either side of his pelvis, leading Louis directly towards his cock.

Finally, Louis reached his destination, breath disrupting the sparse, soft hair along the man’s groin. What Louis was about to do, what he was dying to do, wasn’t something to be taken lightly. Many people only enjoyed it with the trust that came from long term partnership, so he had to be absolutely sure this man was okay with it.

Louis reached one hand up to cover where the man was fisting the sheets to get his attention. The man’s sharp, green gaze met his immediately in silent question.

Louis rubbed his stubble along the man’s inner thighs before spreading them even more to indicate as best he could what he wanted. The man continued to look confused for another moment before he realised what Louis was asking. His momentary hesitation, in which Louis’ could barely breathe in anticipation, gave way to eager nods of his head and an indication for Louis to get on with it.

Louis chuckled before getting back to the business at hand. Spreading the man’s legs even farther apart, Louis leaned down to nose at the crease of his inner thighs, basking in the earthy scent there. The man reached down, grasped the skin of his cheeks with both hands, and pulled himself apart for Louis’ gaze. His impatience to continue was the most erotic thing Louis had ever experienced. He truly would never forget this night.

Unable to stand it any longer, Louis licked a firm stripe across the man’s hole, and felt his thighs clench together and tremble around Louis’ ears. As he continued to tongue around the sensitive pink skin at his entrance, Louis sensed a change in the man’s positioning. Louis pulled away for a moment to make sure nothing was wrong, only to see the man digging in his bedside drawer, arm twisted desperately. Louis moved to help, but one of the man’s heels thumped against his upper back, and Louis was pinned in place by the cutest glare he had ever seen. _Message received_ , Louis thought in surrender, barely managing to quell his laughter.

Why was this man not real? Louis knew that he must be real on some level, and he longed to meet him in real life, somewhere outside his vision. Louis wanted to hear the man’s throaty moans, talk to him, kiss him senseless, hold his lithe body. Louis had never had so much pure fun with a lover. No one had ever satisfied him in such a way. With that thought, he remembered himself. His own aching cock had been forgotten in the face of the other man’s pleasure.

Louis licked around the man’s hole again, before placing a light kiss to the skin just next to it. Louis could eat him out for hours, but he also wanted to feel what it was like to be inside him. Instinctively, something told Louis that he didn’t have the time he desired, and he needed to get his fill of this man while he could.

The man grabbed for Louis’ right hand, lifting it to his mouth and sucking on his first two digits in a move that went straight to Louis’ cock. Jesus. He was definitely sexier than any porn star Louis had ever seen.

Louis followed his directions dutifully, bringing his fingers down to trace along the slick skin where his mouth had just been. He only teased though, not following through the way the man wanted him to, because Louis didn’t want to hurt him in any way. Instead, Louis reached for the lube that he had retrieved and quickly slicked up his fingers. Carefully, Louis began to open him up to take his cock. The heat emanating from his center was overwhelming, and the man felt tight like a vice grip around Louis’ fingers.

Eventually, Louis added a second finger and then a third before his very impatient beauty began to grow restless, trying his best to indicate again that Louis should get on with it.

Louis reached for the condom, and quickly put it on before covering his cock in more lube. Nothing about this encounter would be uncomfortable for the man in front of him if Louis could help it.

Painstakingly slowly, Louis lined himself up and began to enter him. Louis breathed heavily in and out through his nose trying to concentrate and fight off the need to come immediately. By the time that he had bottomed out, Louis could feel the man’s muscles slowly beginning to relax around him. Again, he made it known when he was ready, hooking his legs around Louis’ thighs and giving him a nudge.

Almost as soon as Louis began to move the man started meeting his thrusts. He continued to put pressure on the backs of Louis’ thighs, so Louis took it as an indication that he could increase his intensity.

Soon, the man tensed briefly before his eyelids began to flutter, and Louis could feel his toes curling against the sensitive skin at the backs of his knees. Louis must have found his spot. Trying his best to maintain the same angle, Louis began to thrust as hard as he could. Sweat began to roll down his back under where the man's nails were digging in and definitely scratching him up.

Underneath him, the man's jaw was hanging open, his chest was heaving, and Louis could tell he was crying out with his need for release. Louis did his best to get a hand between their bodies and gather some of the man's dripping precome onto his palm before sliding his fist down the man’s length.

Louis could barely take another few thrusts into the man's exquisite body before the need to come resurfaced, building at the base of his spine. He buried his face into the crook of the man’s neck once again, and only just managed to scrape his teeth along his jaw and give another little tug to his ear lobe, matching the sensation with a deep thrust.

That was all it took to have the man coming over Louis’ fist, dripping white across the permanent darkness of his laurel tattoos. The intermittent clenching of the man's hole as he rode out the waves of his orgasm was what pushed Louis into following him over the edge.

As Louis let the stiffness of his arms go, he intended to fall into the warm pile of heavenly skin and white linen beneath him. Instead he was met with only the cool, recycled air of his adopted office.

Louis jolted awake. The connection was gone.

Louis scrubbed his hand over his face, thankful that no one else was around so late at night. He thought about the vixen in the black pants on the luxurious bed. There was no physical evidence on him of their tryst, except for a slight burning sensation on his back where he was sure to find scratches. Everything else had been lost to the plane he inhabited when he had his visions or made similar psychic connections.

Louis wondered where his mysterious beauty was and if he would ever be able to find him, or live his life without ever seeing him this way again.

***

Harry woke up lazily, basking in the heaviness of his limbs and the slight stiffness of his muscles.

Wait. His heart leapt in his chest. His dream. Mr. Fantasy Man. Had his fantasy been that good that he had fingered himself in his sleep?? He had never done that before.

Harry closed his eyes and let as many memories as he had held onto flash through his mind. Oh wow. He hadn’t come that hard in, well, ever. It was no surprise that it had accompanied a wet dream and possible fingering. Even without looking, he could feel the itch and tightness of the come that had dried on his torso even though he hadn’t had a wet dream since he was a teenager.

Harry sighed and picked his mobile up off the bedside table next to him where the drawer was slightly ajar. Huh.

Shutting the drawer fully, Harry glanced at the time. 8:30 AM. Much later than he had intended on sleeping, but it would do. His exam wasn’t for awhile, so he took his time getting out of bed and grabbing his towel from a pile of fresh laundry.

It wasn’t until he was in the shower, dancing to Beyonce, that he felt a slight twinge on the left side of his jaw. He brought two of his fingers up to where he had felt it, and put pressure on the skin, gasping when it felt tender.

Harry looked down his body to take stock, and sure enough the skin of his inner thighs was inflamed where Mr. Fantasy had dragged his beard along them. There were a few bruises here and there and some suspicious teeth marks near his right nipple.

Gasping, Harry leaned his forehead against the tiled wall to steady himself under the hot spray.

Harry knew he would never again be able to dream up such a perfect man. He had been sexy as hell in his suit and take-charge attitude, but he had been so tender and loving too, checking in with Harry every step of the way. Just like a real lover - a good lover - would.

That was what had confused Harry in the moment as he vaguely remembered. If it was a fantasy, why hadn’t the man done everything Harry wanted him to do? If the vision, dream, whatever it was, had come from Harry’s mind, surely the man wouldn’t have asked permission to eat him out, he would have just done it?

On top of everything else, the man had clearly tried to communicate with Harry. Had Harry not wanted him to talk in the dream? He thought for a moment before shaking his head. No. That definitely wasn’t it. Harry would have loved to hear what the man said. Hear him as he came. It had to be something else. Shouldn’t he be able to control what a man did or didn’t do to him in his dream?

How could Harry have conjured up someone so vividly when he was sure it was someone he had never seen before?

Something obviously wasn’t quite right about last night’s dream, but there was nothing he could do. He had an exam to take and he didn’t feel nearly ready enough for it.

 

A week had gone by, his exam results had come back, and he had passed as well as he could. But still, Harry couldn’t shake his mystery dream man. Every night Harry did everything he could to bring the man back. He tried every trick on the Internet to induce sex dreams just to have a taste of him again.

Harry was beginning to feel hopeless when he arrived home after another long day of studying in the library. He dropped his bag in his foyer like he always did, threw his wallet and keys on the table, and barely managed to drag his feet to his bedroom.

His mobile began to ring when he was about halfway down his hallway. Harry swiped his thumb across the screen.

“Hi, mum.”

“Hiya, love. Have you heard from any ghosts lately?” Right to business, then.

“Um…ah…no. Not exactly.” Harry wanted his mum’s advice about the mystery probably-not-a-dream man, but he definitely did not want to go into details.

“What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?” Her voice took on a hardened edge like it did when he was young and she knew he was lying.

“Well, there was this kind of ghost. I don’t really think he was a ghost though. No aura. Definitely tangible. More like,” he paused, searching for the right word, “An apparition? Maybe? I don’t know. I couldn’t talk to him.”

“Hm. That’s odd. Isn’t your assignment a nan? And not for another two weeks?” His mother started trailing off absentmindedly.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m confused.”

“Understandably. That almost sounds like… But that would be odd…” She continued talking to herself, failing to finish any of the sentences she started.

“Mum?” he waited. “Mum!”

“Right, sorry love. That sounds like another psychic trying to get in touch with you.”

That gave Harry pause, “But, I don’t know any other psychics, do you?”

“A few, but none that would contact you that way.” Harry blushed in the privacy of his flat thinking about trying to explain to his mum what had actually happened with his non-ghost.

Well, fine then. After they finished their conversation, Harry sighed and made his way back to his bedroom. The room hadn’t felt the same since that night with his dream man. Harry always feels as though his bedroom is his own special world, isolated from daily life. But now? Now it felt even more special to Harry. Filled with possibilities and mystery men that he could definitely see himself marrying and having multiple children with to fill their huge house in the suburbs. Or something.

Harry didn’t know who the man was, what he wanted, or where he was for that matter, but it felt like Harry knew him. Deep within his soul. It was the oddest feeling, and he had never experienced it before.

Harry left his jeans and hoodie on, and eventually began to drift off the same way he had every night for a week: feeling the ghost of the man’s lips on his body.

***

It was just after midnight when the call came from dispatch into the Manchester field office. Louis had persuaded his boss to let him go up to Manchester to see if proximity could help him make a connection with the missing girl but he hadn’t had any luck.

Thankfully, someone had seen a child fitting Caroline Dempsey’s description entering a residential building on the other side of town earlier that evening. They had called the standard tip line, but it had taken awhile for the dispatchers to sort through the usual detritus that made up a generic call line and follow up on the tips that actually had credibility.

There was a good thirty minutes between when they were alerted and when they could gather the resources and permission they needed to search the flats in question.

While Louis had done his best, he hadn’t been able to get any kind of lead that had given any extra assistance, so he was only as useful as any other detective. Scotland Yard was kind enough to keep him on the case, though, so he could see it through to the end. Plus, there was always a need for agents willing to work the more difficult cases.

Nothing about the process of searching a block of flats was out of the ordinary for Louis until the car rounded the corner and the actual building came into view. It was nondescript, a standard brick facade. There was no reason for Louis’ heartbeat to pick up, or for him to feel a tug at the back of his consciousness. He wasn’t a rookie and this was far from his first case.

The police were methodical and efficient as they obtained entry to the building and knocked on the doors of flats 1A, 1B, and 2B at the back, before making their way to the door of flat 2A. The woman who opened the door matched the description of Caroline’s father’s ex-girlfriend who hadn’t reported for work all week. When asked for identification, she became cagey and fidgety. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that she was hiding something.

When the agents breached the door, Caroline, sweet little Caroline, came out of one of the bedrooms rubbing at her eyes sleepily before asking if it was time for her to go home and ‘See my mummy.’ Louis’ heart broke for the little girl, but he was overjoyed that she looked as though she had been unharmed physically.

She was handed over to an agent that specialised in children's psychological trauma, and Louis could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He couldn’t quite relax though. Something else was still pulling at him. Calling to him, almost.

Many of the residents had woken up due to the commotion, and they all needed to be questioned. Louis volunteered and divided the remaining flats in half with Liam.

He made it through 1A and 3A in quick succession; 1A wasn’t there and 3A was an older man who barely left the apartment and couldn’t see much without his glasses. That only left one more.

Rounding the staircase that seemed to get narrower as he reached the next landing, Louis began to slow down. The tugging at his consciousness became more and more insistent until he was staring at the slightly off kilter number indicating that the flat in front of him was 4A.

And he knew. Before he even lifted his hand to knock on the door, he knew.

Taking a deep breath, Louis let his knuckles land on the solid wood once, twice, three times before taking a step back.

He heard a voice call out, and then the light went away from behind the peephole. There was a distinct gasp before the door was flung open to reveal a very familiar stranger.

“You,” the man breathed out. Well, that answered the question of whether he would recognise Louis.

“Yeah, um, hello?” Louis cursed himself for not sounding at least a little more suave.

“What are you doing here?” his mystery beauty asked, voice deeper and breathier than Louis had ever expected.

“I’m... Um. I’m Detective Louis Tomlinson. With Scotland Yard. I’m not sure if you heard the noise, but I had a few questions to ask you about this young lady,” he held out a picture of Caroline.

“Really? That’s what you’re going with?” The man smirked and leaned against his door frame. “Louis, was it?” He drew the name out like he was tasting it, savouring it.

 _Do not get hard. Do not get hard,_ Louis repeated to himself. Professional, important business first.

“Please. Take a look. Did you ever see this girl going in or out of the building?” Louis pleaded with his stranger.

“Nope,” the man replied, popping the ‘p’ cheekily.

“Oh thank God,” Louis said, relieved. Business was out of the way. He didn’t need to report on anyone’s statements aside from the lack of information from 3A and now 4A and those could definitely be done in the morning.

Louis quickly pulled out his phone to call Liam.

“Payne.”

“Liam. I’m done. Nothing of worth from anyone on the front of the building.”

“Great. I’m almost done here too. Want a ride back to the office?”

“Nah, actually. I think I’m going to find something to eat and then, um, I’ll make make my own way back to the hotel. See you in the morning?” Louis could feel the man’s eyes on him and it made his own cheeks heat up.

“If you’re sure, Tommo. See you then.” With a click, Liam disconnected and Louis was once again left alone with his mystery man.

“So… make your own way back to the hotel, huh?” There was that cheeky grin again. Louis willed his dick to stay calm.

“Yeah. Um. Hi. I’m Louis,” he began again. Less formally this time.

“Hiya, Louis. I’m Harry.” The man held his hand out, and as soon as their palms touched all of the memories from the week before came flooding back in vivid technicolor. He could tell from Harry’s intake of breath that he felt it, too. From one little point of skin to skin contact, their psychic connection had opened again, just as strong as it had been that night, if not stronger.

“We have a lot to talk about.” _Way to state the obvious, Tommo_ , he chastised himself. Louis didn’t know what it was about Harry that had him so tongue tied. Never mind. Yes, he did. It was that he knew what it was like to be inside him before he had even known his name.

“Yes, we do,” Harry replied. “Would you like to come in for some tea?”

Nothing about his smug smile indicated that Louis was going to be drinking any tea in the near future.

“I would love some tea.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed it please take a look at the fic post [HERE](http://becomeawendybird.tumblr.com/post/166979632816/well-never-be-lonely-in-the-dark-by).
> 
> Keep an eye out for more fics every day in October at the [31 DoS tumblr](http://31daysofsmut.tumblr.com).
> 
> Title comes from the song Gold in the Summertime by Matt Nathanson


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